For Luck
by KarToon12
Summary: One Shot: Takes place during the final battle. Steve is defending the Earth from the alien invaders, when he runs into a familar face. A sequel to my previous, CA one shot, "Do What We Can".


**NOTE: The following one shot is a sequel to my previous, Captain America one shot, "Do What We Can". You NEED to have read that story first in order to understand this one!**

….

….

….

….

Even with all the kayos erupting around him, the only thing Captain Steve Rogers kept harkening back to was the bet he'd placed with Nick Fury. Before the Avengers; before alien invaders; before he suited up and became Captain America again; before his life was turned upside down in a matter of days…he had simply made the off remark that after witnessing the 21st century, there wasn't much left to surprise him with. Fury thought otherwise, and bet him ten bucks.

And now, as the fully suited captain flung his shield at a group of beings from another galaxy, he calculated that, by now, he owed the director a few hundred dollar bills.

It certainly was an odd feeling, even as he raced through the heart of New York City-his years of instincts and skills guiding him along. He had often listened to the adventures of Buck Rogers on the radio; getting lost in his own imagination as he sketched the various alien worlds and creatures that were described. (It also helped that he and the pulp hero shared the same last name.) He could've never conceived that someday, fantasy would become reality. And he also couldn't help but stare in wonder when the portal first opened up-allowing the creatures and their mother ships to invade. With every corner he turned, and every alien he ran into, he constantly had to resist the urge to stop and stare. If he wasn't fighting for his life, and the lives of everyone on Earth, he would've just shaken his head, totally dumbfounded.

The captain held back a laugh. At first, he wanted nothing more than to be back in the 40's, where everything was normal. But now, after all THIS…suddenly, his modern apartment and the Helicarrier sounded like Heaven. At least then, things were more orderly…or as orderly as one could get with a colleague's snarky son, a demi-god, two assassins, and a modern Jekyll and Hyde all stuffed in a room together.

Yep. The Helicarrier was REALLY looking good right now. Karma, thou art a selfish bitch, as Tony would probably say.

"Captain! Heads up!"

Even with the warning call coming from his earpiece, Steve still reacted on instinct and ducked-shield hovering over his head, protectively. Good thing too, for an alien suddenly dropped from the sky; landing directly in front of him and hitting the pavement face first. An arrow was unceremoniously sticking out of its back; a few volts of electricity still sparking from it-a tazer arrow, no doubt. The captain gazed toward the sky; smiling at the sniper watching his back…and for one moment, he flashed back to when he and the Commandos stormed a Hydra base; Bucky watching over him with the aid of a scope, high in the trees. He looked up, half expecting his old friend to be perched on the building top…

…but it was Hawkeye staring back at him, and no doubt he was the one who gave him the heads up in the first place. A tiny stab went through the soldier's heart for a split second, but the feeling subsided when Clint gave him a quick nod and salute. The captain returned the gesture just as earnestly; a silent show of gratitude, from one comrade to another.

Okay, so maybe some things in the world hadn't changed.

The super soldier then took off down the block again-running as fast as his legs would carry him. Clint seemed to be on top of things here, so there was no sense in staying where he was, especially not when there were other people in danger. And then, as if on cue, his communicator crackled to life again, "Agent Romanov here-the national guard's finally arrived! Does anyone copy?"

"Captain Rogers here-I copy", the super soldier responded; vaulting over an over turned pick up truck, "What's your position?"

"I'm three blocks west of the Empire State Building", Natasha sounded out of breath, "I got hostiles mixed with friendlies over here! The army's starting to evacuate whoever's left, but I still need back up!"

"On my way! Rogers out!" the captain immediately changed direction-racing to get to his teammate in time. All the while, he assessed their situation, and things weren't shaping up too well:

Clint and Tony were keeping the skies clear, but he knew they both had to run out of ammo eventually.

After Thor's little light show on the aforementioned Empire State Building, the Asguardian was nowhere to be found.

The Hulk was preoccupied with…smashing things.

And if his hunch was right, Natasha was potentially surrounded.

Could this day get any worse?

"Nope-wait", the solider caught himself, "I withdraw the question."

He hoped he had taken back his question in time, especially when a new sight greeted him as he rounded the last corner. A group of five or so aliens had the Black Widow cornered. But they apparently weren't expecting her to fight back, considering the way they were caught off guard when she delivered a flurry of round house kicks-almost as if performing a ballet move.

"There goes another ten bucks", he thought; preparing to throw his shield at his friend's attackers. If only lady luck could hold out just a little longer…

Natasha leap frogged over her nemesis; eyes wide with shock, "Cap! Grenade!"

Just then, time seemed to slow down as Steve's gut reactions cranked into overdrive. He followed her gaze-swiveling to the left and seeing some foreign-looking bomb coming right at his face. A nano-second later, his brain told his right arm not to toss his shield, and give it to his left hand instead. Just as the solider was able to hold up his only protection with both hands and brace himself, the inevitable explosion went off; blasting him backwards with the force of a freight train. He remained airborn for what seemed like an eternity; ears ringing and various colors flashing by him, before finally crashing through a plate glass window and coming to land on a hard, marble floor.

He must've blacked out for a moment, for the whole world was a spinning, hazy mess when he finally found the strength to get up. Slowly, but surely, the soldier rose to a sitting position-trying to gather himself as he checked for injuries. Save for a few exposed bruises and scrapes, his trusty shield had spared him a fiery fate…speaking of which, the vibranium circle was nowhere to be found. Quickly, he glanced around; determining where both his shield AND he himself had landed. A picture window was directly in front of him-a huge hole smashed through it (no doubt HE was the cause of that). The rest of the tiny store was wall to wall flowers, of all shapes and sizes. Even at that moment, he was lying in a huge pile of sweet-smelling tulips and daises. This was a florist shop, no doubt.

Well, if anything, at least he got to wake up to a pretty sight…but where did his shield go?

Thankfully, his circle of protection was only a few feet away from him. Steve painfully rose to his feet, reaching out to grab the shield, when suddenly, a cluster of frightened whimpers caught his attention. A desk and table had been overturned, and a few pairs of feet were sticking out from behind them. After picking up his shield, the soldier slowly and carefully made his way around the upset furniture, and what he saw made him pause.

Six people were all huddled in a corner; latched onto one another protectively, and shaking with fright. Two of them were an elderly man and woman-both dressed in green aprons-most likely, the shop keepers. Another was a 30-something gentleman, dressed in a track outfit and wielding a baseball bat-probably just a customer. There were two teenage girls-one blonde, the other a red head; both looking attractive and frightened at the same time.

But it was the young woman at the front of the group that his eyes were immediately drawn to. She was wearing a green apron similar to the old couple-no doubt an employee of theirs. Her petite face was dotted with freckles, as well as dirt and debris; her light brown hair tied in a messy ponytail. But there was no mistaking the bright yellow daffodil in her hair wrap…nor the gold, heart-shaped locket dangling around her neck…or the grass-green eyes that stared up at him in a mix of terror and absolute amazement.

In a matter of seconds, his mind flicked back to just a few months prior, to a random afternoon when he had stopped to rest in a café, and ended up having his whole outlook on life changed thanks to one young woman's kind words…and a story of how he had saved the life of her grandfather years before. That same woman was now staring up at him; mouth hanging open in shock, and he himself nearly did the same.

…it was Agnes.

Too dumbfounded at this strange reunion of sorts, the only thing that came to his mind was, "Well…looks like she took my advice and became a florist after all."

A sudden vibration ripped through the tiny store, making everyone jump. Immediately, Steve was all business again, "Is everyone okay here?"

The man with the bat darted his eyes between the Captain and the group of civilians, wondering if they should trust this new comer or not. And Steve couldn't blame him, considering his rather explosive entrance. He also realized he looked rather imposing; looming over the group-shield at the ready. So he lowered down to one knee so he was at eye level with them all. This seemed to put the man at ease, and he lowered the bat, "Um…as okay as we CAN be."

The soldier nodded; trying not to stare at Agnes for too long, who's eyes kept boring into him, "Anyone injured?"

The elderly man spoke next, "No, I think we're all fine. Just a few scrapes. Table here protected us." He pulled the older woman into a hug-no doubt his wife, and motioned to the broken window, "You came crashin' in here, and we thought you were one of…THEM, at first."

"I'm sorry about that", Steve shrugged, then gave a tiny smile, "Well, don't worry. I'm going to get you all out of here."

With that, he rose to his feet and quickly jogged around the makeshift barrier; crouching down in front of a group of potted plants. He could see Natasha still duking it out with a fresh batch of aliens, only now the action was over fifty yards away; making him ponder if SHE had moved farther away, or was that how far the blast had thrown him? He was about to make for the doorway-wanting to get a better view of the outside, when just then, a trio of extraterrestrials shot by on their flying machines. The shattered glass on the floor vibrated as they passed-marking just how close they actually were. Steve nearly cursed, but stopped himself; instead running back to his new set of charges. He only had two choices…he could try and call for back up, but risk attracting all the wrong attention and endanger these people even more…or…

"Okay, the front door's a no go", the soldier explained; crouching down with the group again, "Is there a back way out of here?"

The elderly woman shook her head, but pointed towards the back of the store, "No, but that door over there leads to a basement. But with all these earthquakes and stuff, our store's safe fell in front of it. It'd take twenty men to move that thing."

Steve swiveled his head around to spot the safe in question-now laying on its side and blocking their only sanctuary. Meanwhile, the red headed teenager scrunched into a tiny ball; swaying back and forth and mumbling, "Please, I don't wanna' die…I don't wanna' die…"

This only served to freak out her blonde companion, who cried out, "It's the apocalypse!"

Agnes didn't speak a word. Either she was suffering from shell shock, or was still too stunned at seeing the man in the spangly outfit…probably a mixture of both. Either way, she was the only one who remained oddly silent through the whole ordeal.

Steve swiveled back around; keeping his voice encouraging, but firm, "Okay, everyone calm down! No one is going to die! Not on my watch." His commanding voice seemed to pacify them all for the time being, so he chose that moment to stand up again, "Just give me a minute, and I'll move the safe."

He then started to head for the back of the store-having to push his way through debris, plants, and other things that had toppled over in the mass hysteria. The old man blinked at him; utterly bewildered, "But…you'd have to be Hercules to do that, mister!"

The statement didn't faze the soldier in the slightest. And for the first time since their situation had started, Agnes spoke, "He CAN do it…"

Her five companions all eyed her with curiosity; thrown a bit at her sudden words. Their questioning glances made her continue-her voice an awed whisper, "…he's Captain America."

Immediately afterward, she slowly stood up; taking a few tentative steps toward the super hero. She only looked back once, to which the man with the bat nodded, as if to say, "I'll keep watch here. You go and help him." With that, the girl gathered herself, before clearing a path-shoving odds and ends out of the way in a, surprisingly, orderly manner. With each object pushed aside, it brought her one step closer to her target.

And then, at long last, she came to stand beside her hero-assisting him in pushing away the clutter that blocked the overturned safe. The captain, for his part, tried to stay focused on the task at hand, yet couldn't help but steal curious glances at the ex-waitress. Did she recognize his voice? Should he tell her the truth? Part of him wanted to, but when an explosion sounded off in the distance, he thought better of it. Now probably wasn't the best time to hit her with another bombshell. She looked frazzled enough. So instead, the two worked together in companionable silence; the back area becoming very quiet and private, strangely enough.

But then Agnes finally broke the tension-her expression clear that if she wanted to say anything, now was the time to do it, "…I just can't believe it."

Her voice was so breathy and soft, the captain almost didn't catch it, "Excuse me?"

The young woman had come to a full stop; looking the soldier up and down-wondering if what she was seeing was real, "Seeing you…in the flesh…I thought I'd never…I thought…" The words weren't coming, so she replied instead, "…how is it possible?"

Steve knew exactly what she was getting at, and it was impossible to explain his…unique circumstances, in a way that would wrap it up in a nice, neat package. He chucked a bag of potting soil over his shoulder, "…I'm starting to learn that anything's possible, maim."

Agnes raised a brow; wondering if he was referring to the alien invasion or something else…which then made her blurt out, "So…are you, like…taking up the mantle or something?"

Steve's lips formed a thin line as he regarded her a moment. This poor girl was trying to apply logic to a situation that simply couldn't be fully reasoned. But he didn't wish to lie to her, so he half shrugged, "More like RE-taking it…"

He went back to kicking aside a large chunk of rubble. But a second later, he had to stop again when he heard sniffling. Turning, he spied Agnes appearing ready to cry. She obviously had something to say, but was struggling to voice it…and he realized there'd be no ignoring the inevitable conversation any longer. He paused in his work to give her his full attention, "Are you alright?"

The brunette folded her arms; nervously shaking, "It's just…if this is real…if it's really you…like, YOU you…then…"

She trailed off again, and the soldier inclined his head, "I'm listening."

For one moment, a knowing look glazed her eyes; a sense of familiarity coming back to her. But it quickly disappeared as she tried to spit out all the words-grabbing whatever came to her first, "Well…it's just…I don't know if you'd remember, but…you saved my granddad…years ago…and I never-I mean…he never…we never got to say thank you…for everything…for…"

The more she rambled, the more her breath hitched and tears began to fall. It was akin to winning an award you thought you'd never get, then having to make up an Oscar-worthy speech on the spot. There was so much she wanted to say, but had no time or the wits about her to do it.

But thankfully, Steve knew EXACTLY what she was trying to give voice to. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder-instantly calming her trembling body and heart. And with his most grateful tone, he smiled, "…you're very welcome."

Agnes merely blinked-surprised. But soon, she cracked a grin of her own and wiped away her tears; relieved that she finally received a strange sense of closure. Whatever her granddad needed to say, she got to complete the mission for him. It may not have been Academy-worthy, but her hero seemed to understand, and that was all that mattered.

The captain gave her shoulder a squeeze-the only show of comfort he could provide at the moment, before finally returning to the task at hand. He circled around the back side of the enormous safe; bracing his shoulder and arms against it. And with one, mighty push, the super solider slid the two ton safe across the marble floor-opening up the passageway at long last. All the while, Agnes took a step back in stunned amazement. There was no faking a stunt like that. This was no imposter or descendant…he was the real deal.

Up until that point, she could only imagine what her grandpa was thinking when the captain single-handedly lifted a huge slab of concrete that had him trapped…now she knew.

Steve paused to catch his breath, before glancing out the window again at the mayhem still commencing outside. He REALLY needed to get back out there. His team was no doubt wondering where he was, and his communicator remaining silent did little to alleviate his fears. The young woman followed his gaze-eyes fearful, "What ARE those things out there?"

The solider explained in the only way he could, "Something out of a bad science fiction novel…" He knew she wasn't going to like what he said next, but there was no hiding it, "…and I've gotta' get back out there."

She turned on her heel; face looking ready to panic. Half of her knew he had a job to do, but the other half wanted him to stay forever. She felt safe around him, and she couldn't bear to give him up. Noticing her mood swing, he looked her directly in the eyes-a brave aurora enveloping both of them, "I've got a team, and they need me…can I leave you in charge here?"

It wasn't so much a question; more of a statement. Agnes wanted to look anywhere but into his determined, blue eyes…eyes that looked so familiar to her, but she couldn't place why. She then glanced over at the five other people she'd become trapped with. Her two elderly employers appeared to be ready to pass out; the customer with the bat was TRYING to stay calm, but his jittery hands and nervous glances said otherwise. And the two girls were just sniffling, shivering messes. Agnes was the only one who had actually ACTED-had actually DONE something to help, however small it might be. And it was then she understood why the captain was asking HER to take charge. The group needed a leader, and apparently, he trusted her as the right one for the task. And as scared as she was, she resolved to put on a brave face-her posture getting a bit straighter. He did her family a tremendous service; it was only right to try and return the favor.

She finally looked him in the eye and nodded, "Yeah…I think so."

Her voice certainly betrayed her growing confidence, and the solider sympathized, "…I realize we're having a…bad day here, but…"

And then, surprisingly, the girl cut him off; a smirk playing across her lips, "…it's okay…bad days just make the good ones better…my grandpa taught me that."

Steve couldn't help but smile at the call back to their conversation in the café. And if that was the case…if they all survived this…then tomorrow was going to be a REALLY great day.

With a final nod at one another, superhero and florist-turned-super assistant rejoined the quintet seated on the floor. Upon their approach, they all began to rise-spotting their safe refuge just over the captain's shoulder. He put his hands up; motioning them to stay calm, "Okay, everyone listen up. I've got the door open. You'll all be safe in the basement. The army's starting to get here-I'll make sure they cover this area too. Do NOT come out until help arrives, understand?"

The group collectively nodded, and the soldier took the shield off his back, "Okay, I have to leave now. But Agnes is going to be in charge."

He motioned to the girl in question, and when he caught her eye, he physically froze in place. The young lady stared back at him-expression starting off confused, but then gradually melting to pure, unadulterated shock. And it was then he remembered…she never once spoke her name…and he realized his slip up.

…and realization dawned on HER…her voice barely above a whisper.

…_Steve…?_

Suddenly, another tremor shook the whole store; making everyone jump. Without a moment to spare, the Captain flung open the basement door-motioning to the descending staircase like some star spangled bell hop. At first, no one made a move-still too shell shocked to do anything. He then cast a knowing glance at Agnes, who finally nodded and took the initiative. Both her and the customer took the elders by the arms and shuffled them towards the doorway. A piece of the ceiling broke free, but the soldier was quick to throw his shield over top of the group-deflecting the piece of concrete. The woman let out a gasp, but Agnes was quick to calm her, "Come on Mr. and Mrs. Romita; over here!"

The old couple filed in first, followed by the man with the bat (who was still clutching onto it like a lifeline). The two girls were still rooted to the spot, to which Agnes frantically waved her hand-beckoning them to follow, "MJ! Gwen! Come on!"

Her cries seemed to finally snap them out of their shock, and the red head and blonde quickly rushed through the doorway; arms over their heads and not looking back once. The florist then felt a hand on her back, and she realized it was Steve pushing her inside. She resisted for only a moment; whipping around to take one more look at her savior. He said nothing-merely gave her a clear, "I've got no time to explain" expression, before closing the door on her face-ensuring her safety.

The captain then made a mad dash back to the entrance of the store. He had no clue how long he'd been away from the battle, and he couldn't waste another second. He could no longer see any sign of the aliens or Natasha, and he prayed it was a good thing. But just as he was about to step out, a voice stopped him.

"WAIT!"

Steve turned on his heel to see Agnes barreling towards him-face fueled with adrenaline. He held up his hands to stop her, "Agnes! It's not safe! Get back inside!" When she didn't respond, he continued, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but you can't…"

But his voice trailed off when he noticed that she wasn't making a move to go with him. Instead, she took hold of the locket around her neck and frantically opened the clasp-pulling out the tiny, four leaf clover inside. She then fished through the pocket of her apron; producing a roll of scotch tape. Wordlessly, she grabbed a hold of his shield-taping the clover on the inside. She then stared up at him-speaking only two words.

"For luck."

The captain could do nothing but gaze between her and the small gift she'd given him, and it suddenly occurred to him of the full magnitude behind it. This was the clover her grandmother had given to her grandfather for battle…that was passed down to her mom...and then to her. The thing was practically a family heirloom. There was no way he could take something that was precious away from her.

But her determined expression made it clear she wasn't taking it back. She knew he needed it more than she did at the moment. To drive the point home, she took a step back; smiling, as if to say, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

And not wanting to snub such a gracious gift, the soldier smirked back; vowing to himself that he'd return it to her at the first opportunity. Giving her a heartfelt salute, he then finally dashed away to rejoin his comrades. All the while, Agnes watched him go-standing in the broken doorway until he was a speck in the distance; fist pumping in the air as she called out.

"Go Steve!"

She wasn't sure if he heard her or not…until she saw him toss a wave in her direction, which made her jump up and down.

"GO, STEVE, GO!"

….

….

…

…

Mrs. Romita was busy sweeping up the floor of the flower shop, when she heard the front bell ring-signaling that someone had come in. She peered over her shoulder to spot a rather pleasant-looking gentleman with blue eyes and blonde hair parted in a style she hadn't seen in a long time. He politely nodded to her, and she, in turn, gave him her full attention, "Hello there. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Um, no maim, but thanks", Steve shifted a bit on his feet, "I was just wondering if Agnes was working today."

The lady raised a brow, "Ah, you're one of her friends. Well, she certainly picked a handsome one." If she noticed his face turning beet red, she didn't say anything; merely leaned on her push broom for support, " 'Course now, I'd say you're a bit old for her, but what do I know?" She shrugged, "Just old fashioned, I guess."

The soldier held back a chuckle, "I understand. But we're just friends. Is she around?"

The woman made her way around the counter, "She's on her lunch break at the moment. But she should be back in five minutes."

Steve nodded; content to wait. As he did, he glanced around the shop-taking in all the construction that had been done in the past month. The window he'd crashed through was still boarded up; new support beams held up the ceiling, and it looked like half their inventory was gone. The basement door was now metal instead of wood. The safe was nowhere to be found; probably got rid of the cursed thing after how it almost doomed them all.

Mrs. Romita broke him from his thoughts, "I apologize for the mess. We're still cleaning up after…you know what."

She physically shuttered at the memory, and the solider nodded, "Are you all okay?"

"Oh yes, thank God", the woman sighed, thinking back on the past month, "We were only stuck here for a few hours before the army came and got us out." A smirk played across her lips, "I think we had an angel watching over us."

Her eyes flicked toward a small vase sitting by the cash register. A cute bouquet of red, white, and blue carnations were in full bloom-tied together with a gold ribbon. A familiar shield emblem was carefully painted on the vase. Steve could feel his cheeks burning again, and the woman explained, "Agnes made that herself, bless her heart. She wants that to be a permanent fixture…and I have no argument there." Her eyes drifted out the window; staring at everything and nothing, "There's a locket she always wears for a good luck charm…sometimes I wonder if it really DOES work. It certainly did for us."

The captain grinned, "That's actually kind of why I'm here."

Just then, the front bell jingled again, and both Steve and Mrs. Romita turned to see the girl in question standing in the doorway-glasses practically falling off her face as she regarded the blonde man in front of her. Taking the hint, the old woman shuffled to the back room, giggling, "I'll leave you two be…and Agnes; if you need your break to be a bit longer, I've got no qualms about it." She added in a wink before disappearing.

For a long moment, the blonde and the brunette stared at one another, wondering where to start. The girl merely blinked-letting the captain take the initiative. He reached into the front pocket of his bomber jacket; pulling out the tiny, but precious four leaf clover. He held it out to her as if it were the Holy Grail, "…I, um…I wanted to return this to you…and thank you."

Agnes slowly stepped forward-carefully plucking the clover from his finger tips and putting it back it its rightful place; inside her locket. She bit her bottom lip-fighting back tears, "…no problem."

The two remained silent for almost a full minute, before she randomly spoke up again, "I still have the drawing you made for me."

Steve blinked, "Really?"

She nodded, "Yep…got it framed…it's in my room."

The soldier nearly laughed at the idea of a lunch menu hanging in someone's bedroom. But instead, he merely folded his arms-content to finally drop the axe, "…I…I'm sorry about what happened, I…"

But the girl held a hand up to stop him, "No. Don't be sorry for anything." She glanced at the tribunal vase she made, before sighing, "Let's just say that…maybe it's time you told ME a story."

The blonde man shrugged, "Gotta' warn ya'. It's pretty long."

"Maybe we should take it somewhere else then?" she asked, although it was more like a suggestion, "Café maybe? I heard they're under some friendlier management now."

She threw in a knowing wink, and he smiled in kind.

"It's a date."


End file.
